Texts of Time
by x - Torchwood's Baby Blue - x
Summary: After John and Sherlock make it out of the swimming pool alive, Sherlock gets a few disturbing texts from Moriarty. Time is running out. Will Sherlock be able to tell John the truth before the clock stops ticking? Will John ever trust him again?
1. Chapter 1

So, I have to confess, this is a pretty good idea of mine. I don't many so I bask in the glory when I do, sorry. I'm not gonna tell you anything else apart from the fact it is set after the swimming pool incident (I'm gonna kill Moffy). They all survived, as you could probably tell. I hope you enjoy it. it may be a bit confusing to start with, but it will straighten out, hopefully! Own zilch. PLEASE R&R. Thanks TWBB xx

Text Message Received- 29th March 11

From: M

To: Sherlock Holmes

What I don't seem to get Sherlock is if you care about John as much as I think you do, then why would you risk his life just so you could meet me. You lied to him Sherlock. You told him you had given that memory stick to your brother, Mycroft. But you hadn't, had you? No. You had kept it in the hope it was why I was playing that great game with you. You kept it so you could lure me in. If you hadn't let your egotistic self, if you had not fuelled your passion for danger, then John wouldn't have all the scares he has now. Have you seen them? All across his back and arms. Nasty business. You did that Sherlock. You.

When John first met you, he asked if this is what you did. Risk your life to show people that you're clever. You replied, 'now why would I do that?' But he was right wasn't he, dear old John. He was right. So go on then. Off you go. Go and risk your life to show people that you're clever, no matter the consequence. Apparently, it's what you do best. But I will say one thing Sherlock. If you have any kind of heart, you will explain to John what you did. And you hope to God that he will forgive you.

You have three days. Tick tock.

M

What do ya think? Click the button and do tell! Thanks for reading guys. You're brill. More soon I hope. TWBB xx


	2. Chapter 2

Here we go. Thanks to all that read and reviewed. Sort but sweet, this is. Mainly for affect! Own zilch, yardi yarda. R&R as always. Thanks guys. TWBB xx

Text Message Received- 30th March 11

From: M

To: Sherlock Holmes

Have you told him yet?

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick…tock.

M

More soon. Starting proper story next chapter. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks TWBB xx


	3. Chapter 3

Right, starting proper story here. Thank you so much to all who reviewed. I really do appreciate it. My dates are all off as I haven't updated in ages but they do follow the three day rule in the first text. Own zilch, as always. Please R&R. Thanks guys TWBB xx

Text Message Received- 31st March 11

From: M

To: Sherlock Holmes

Time is ticking my friend. Like a bomb. Time… is ticking…

As soon as Sherlock had finished reading the text to himself, a distinctive ticking noise could be heard in the room.

"Moriarty…" Sherlock said to himself. John looked up from his book.

"Sorry, what?" he asked, looking confused. His attention was then drawn to the loud ticking sound. He looked at Sherlock and raised an eyebrow. "He wouldn't," he breathed.

"Oh, I think he would," Sherlock replied, looking around the room for any tell tale sign of where the explosives might be. John moved to get up but Sherlock gestured for him to stay sitting. "Don't move. There could be movement trigger somewhere. Just stay where you are… and don't panic," he added after a second. John gave him a look that said 'come off it, I was in a war. Do you really think I would panic now, after everything?' Sherlock either didn't see this or did and chose to ignore it.

The two of them were now looking around the room for wires, switches, anything that could stop the relentless ticking.

"There," John whispered, pointing to the far right hand wall where a line of white wire was running up it.

"Yeah, I see it," Sherlock whispered back, nodding.

"Why are we whispering?" John whispered. Even though his life was hanging by a thread… again… he still found this amusing.

"I don't know, you started it," Sherlock replied back, still whispering.

"Shall we just concentrate on the problem in hand?" John asked, returning to a normal volume.

"That's probably best, yes," Sherlock said, turning his attention back to the wire. He followed the wire up the wall, across and down to the floor. Underneath a table was a pack of explosives, a big pack of explosives. Sherlock gingerly got up and tiptoed over to the table. Under any other circumstances, John would have it quite funny. Sherlock got half way and dropped to his knees to crawl the rest if the way. He glanced around at John before continuing the rest of his slow journey. John didn't recognise the look as a look from Sherlock. If he didn't know him better, John would say his eyes were saying sorry. Something that he rarely sees in Sherlock. In fact, the last time he saw that was… yeah, it was. It was in the swimming pool. The more he thought about it, the more he could relate this situation to the one in the swimming pool. The one and only time he had seen fear in Sherlock's eyes. The only time that Sherlock had ever apologised to him and had meant it. So if he put two and two together, plus what Sherlock had said three minutes ago… Moriarty… I can't be. Not Moriarty. Not again. Why would he… why would he need to? Sherlock had witnessed John's mental conversation and as he saw fear rise in his eyes, he new he had worked it out. Moriarty was trying to kill him… again. And it was his fault… again.

So, what do ya think? Please let me know. It makes my day to sign into my inbox and find reviews! Update soon. My internet is a bit dodgy at the mo hence the fact I took so long to update before. Thanks again. TWBB xx


	4. Chapter 4

So here is chapter 4. Hope you enjoy. There is a M/M kiss at then end. Thought I better warn you just in case. There is a slight Doctor Who reference in there. See if you can spot it! Please R&R. Own zilch.

"We need to do something," John said, looking at Sherlock. He appeared to be lost in his own thoughts, not paying attention to the fact that there was a bomb in their flat that was surely going to explode in a few minutes. "I mean, you've got a plan, right?" John asked. Sherlock wasn't looking at him. He just stared at the wall. "Sherlock...? Earth to Sherlock..." John was getting ever worried. He just sat there. Suddenly he burst into life.  
"Right John. I need you to do exactly what I say. Move carefully. I need wire cutters and a pair of pliers. I need my phone, your hands and possibly a foot. Oh and one more thing. You don't happen to have a fez?" Sherlock asked with a deadpan look on his face.  
"Err, no. I don't have a fez I'm afraid. I'll just get the other stuff shall I?" John asked looking slightly confused.  
"Yes, yes. Be careful. Move slowly but as quickly as you can. And yes, I just heard what I said. Do not make a comment. Just go and get the stuff. Thank you," Sherlock said all in one breathe. He turned to the bomb. "We have three minutes John. Hurry up," Sherlock said, slightly concerned.

Less than thirty seconds later, John had returned with the list of things he had been told to fetch. Minus the fez.  
"Right. What do you want me to do?" he asked.  
"Crawl under here next to me. Right. Put pressure on the blue wire."  
"Which one?"  
"The blue one. "  
"No, which blue one?"  
"Oh. The furthest left one."  
"Right. Got it."  
"Ok. Now use your other hand to gently tug this red one I'm holding. When it starts to resist, stop and hold it there."  
"Ok. Yeah. Got that. "  
"Ok. Now is it the red one or the green one you cut...?"  
"SHERLOCK!" John exclaimed. He was either purposely being awkward or he really didn't know.  
"Only joking. It's defiantly the blue one... I think," he whispered to himself. John gave him a look.  
"Don't toy with me Sherlock," he threatened, not looking impressed.  
"Sorry. You ready?" he asked.  
"Ready as I'll ever be," John replied. The wire cutters closed around the wire. John held his breathe. The blue plastic around the wire stared to crumple under the strain. Finally, after what seemed like an age, the wire snapped. Sherlock caught his breathe just for a second before exhaling slowly. He had done it. The two men collapsed in a heap on the floor underneath the table. They were both slightly short of breath. John grinned at Sherlock. They both started to giggle. They couldn't stop for a good two minutes.  
"That... was mad," John concluded.  
"You're telling me," Sherlock replied. They both rolled over in the same direction to get up. As they did so, their hands brushed. They quickly looked up at each other. They looked deep into each other's eyes. John couldn't help himself but reach out and touch Sherlock's perfect face. He brushed the back of his hand against his cheek. Sherlock eyes fluttered shut. He leant forward, close to his flatmate. They could feel each other's hot breathe on their faces. Sherlock closed the gap between them. Their lips brushed together gently. John leant into the kiss even more, never wanting it to end...

Thanks for reading. Update soon. TWBB xx 


	5. Chapter 5

**My dear readers. Here is the next chapter. Quite sort. But this is the last bit before the nitty gritty stuff starts. I hope you enjoy this. Please review. TWBB xx **

"Sherlock? John? Are you in. Dear, what a mess you two have made. Sherlo... Oh..." Mrs Hudson had in fact walked in on Sherlock and John underneath the table, bomb still sitting next to them. Thankfully, it wasn't ticking. "Sherlock dear, excuse me. I don't mean to... err... disturb you, but there's someone here to see you," Mrs Hudson said, diverting her eyes and looking a little flustered.

As soon as our two love birds had heard Mrs Hudson enter the room they had sprung apart. They too seemed a little flustered. Even though John found this situation unnerving, he found it quite funny as well. He glanced at Sherlock for a second. Sherlock glanced back and smiled softly.

"I'll just tell them you'll be down in a minute shall I?" Mrs Hudson asked as she turned to leave.  
"Yes, thank you Mrs Hudson," Sherlock managed to say before she disappeared down the stairs muttering something that sounded to Sherlock a bit like 'about bloody time'.  
"I don't know what you're looking so smug about," John commented as he got up from the floor and straightened his jumper and smoothed down his hair.  
"What?" was all Sherlock replied laughing before following Mrs Hudson down the stairs to see who was his surprise visitor. John stood there for a moment, lost in his thoughts before coming to the conclusion that he was mad and extremely lucky at the same time. He shook his head, sighed and followed his flatmate/friend/college/lover down the stairs as well, wondering who was the visitor.

He hoped it was Lestrade. He and Sherlock to do with another case. Thanks for reading. TWBB xx 


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok again another short chapter. To be honest, I don't do long chapters! So yeah. Enjoy! **

As Sherlock followed Mrs Hudson down the stairs, his phone beeped indicating a text message. He abruptly stopped, almost causing John to walk into him. Only he knew the significance of the fact he had a text. And only he knew who it was before he looked.

28th March '11- Text Message From: Moriarty  
To: Sherlock Holmes

The man at the door. Don't argue. Just follow. It will be nice to get properly acquainted. Because you see, Sherlock, after your little 'moment' with John, you made me even more determined to burn your heart. And now, I know the exact person to use to start that process. See you very soon.  
M

Sherlock swallowed hard. This is why he never let himself care. He knew. Knew that it would end badly. He turned quickly around to John.  
"Do you trust me?" he asked. John was slightly taken aback.  
"I...I... Why?" he asked, getting worried again.  
"Do you trust me?" Sherlock asked again. John thought for a second. A voice in his head was saying 'of course, of course. With my life'. That voice was the one that was saying that John loved Sherlock. He decided to take notice of this voice.  
"Yes," he breathed.  
"Good. Now listen to me. Moriarty put that bomb there. He has been texting me for a while now. Threatening me. That man at the door, he wants us to follow him. We need to. But I need to know first of you trust me. Really and truthfully."  
"I do. Really. I do," John replied.  
"Then I need to tell you something," Sherlock said before leaning forward and whispering something in John's ear. John simply nodded and took a deep breath. This was it. Again. Bloody Moriarty... 

Oooo! What did Sherlock say to John? Who knows! So tell me what you think! Thanks TWBB xx


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock and John followed the man out of the door and down the street.

"Sherlock, John dear, where are you going?" Mrs Hudson called.

"Look at the fridge," Sherlock called back. John gave him a look that said 'what the hell are you on about'. Sherlock glanced sideways at him. There was a look in his eye. It said 'if you ever trusted me, then do it now'. John knew he must have a plan. Well, he hoped.

Down the road, Sherlock and John could see a big black car.

"I'm guessing that's our destination…" Sherlock said, looking at John, trying to be reassuring.

"Get in the car," the mysterious man ordered. This time it wasn't only Sherlock who was observing everything.

"Welsh?" John questioned, not for conformation but in surprise. Sherlock just raised his eyebrows and indicated for John to get into the car first. John gave him a sarcastic smile and got in. Sherlock glanced 180 degrees around him before following his doctor into the car.

"Hellllooooooo… so nice to see you again. I'm afraid I am going to have to do this though…"

Suddenly, Sherlock and John felt something over their heads, obscuring their vision. Not that it made much difference, as the car was quite dark due to the blacked out windows. 'I'm so glad he's above showing off to us' Sherlock thought as he heard the car start and pull away. He jumped when he felt a hand reach out and feel around for his hand. He reached out as well and met the wondering hand half way. He knew it was John. He also knew he hated the dark or being restricted. The only thing he could do was comfort him as they drove off into the hustle and bustle of London, leaving Mrs Hudson, and John, wondering what Sherlock had left on, or in, the fridge this time.

SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH

"Out…"

"You know a please wouldn't go a miss."

"John, I wouldn't-"

"Sherlock, I have just been stuck in car for, what, half an hour with a bag over my head. I do expect some politeness."

"It isn't going to happen John so…"

"Yes, yes ok. Can I have this bag off my head now?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask your impolite friend."

"Ah yes, ok. Excuse me, my impolite friend, please may I have this bag off my head."

"See that's how you be polite."

"Sherlock, you were the one who told me to leave it."

"Doesn't mean I don't agree. It also doesn't mean I have to leave it."

"Fine whatever."

"Ah, you two are so sweet. Very domestic. Although, that's the biggest insult for you, isn't Sherlock, my _dear_."

Even though they still couldn't see, both John and Sherlock spun around to where the voice was coming from.

"Gareth, the bags." The sudden light made John and Sherlock squint. John temporally lost his balance, saved by the arms of Sherlock.

"Thanks," he smiled at the detective. He smiled back then turned to the voice. To Moriarty.

"Like I said, sweet. Which makes it such a shame that I have to now have to do this. He drew a gun from his pocket and pointed it at John. John swore to himself, took a sharp intake of breath and immediately took a step back.

"Save goodbye, Johnny-boy. Although, I think you have been for a long time. Moriarty gave him a sickening smile. His fingered tightened on the trigger.

"NO…"

**So, what did you think? Please tell! I'm not having much luck with getting reviews for any of my stories at the mo so I would appreciate it if you could. For once there is no long author note at the start for an explanation. Or at the end. So all that is left to say is hope you enjoyed. Thanks for reading. TWBB xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Bit of a teaser chapter! I think a few of you may swear at me but hear me out! If I do this then I can update my other stories quicker so… yeah… please don't kill me. But still please read and review and tell me what you think.**

_"Sherlock. Sherlock can you hear me?"_

"Stay where you are."

_"Sherlock, come on. Open your eyes…"_

"Put the gun on the floor… NOW…"

_"Sherlock please."_

"STAY WHERE YOU ARE."

_"Sherlock…?"_

"Don't even think about it. Take him away. John…?"

_"Sherlock, please. Just look at me, please. Just open your eyes."_

"John… is everything ok?"

_"Sherlock… LOOK. AT. ME…"_

**So ****yeah, tell me what you think please. Cos I'm not sure if I put the right message across at the end the last chapter so this is just trying to confirm. So if you could tell me it would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading. TWBB xx **


	9. Chapter 9

John sat in the chair, the distant noise of the beeping in the background pulling him into sleep…

John woke with a start, haunted by the dreams of his previous sleep. He felt warmth in his hand. He look round to see Sherlock lying there, just where he left him, John holding his hand, just how he left him. He sighed and put his head in his free hand. He glanced at the clock. 6pm. John sighed. He started to reflect on the previous few hours, then decided against it as he felt a lump in his throat, remembering his thoughts when he saw… but he didn't want to think about that. John was aware of a presence behind him. He looked round, realising that a doctor was standing there, taking notes on a clipboard. John turned to the doctor, never letting go of Sherlock's hand as he did.

"How is he?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. He was a doctor himself after all.

"He's stable." Yeah, that's what they always say… "he was very lucky. A few more inches to left and… well… you know. But he should make a good recovery. He's fit and healthy, which will help. He's on hourly obs. A nurse will be round soon. You should go home. Rest. You've been though a lot too."

"Ha, I'm not leaving him. Not a chance in hell. I'm staying until he wakes up," John replied. Doctors, all the same!

"Ok, well that should be anytime now. Don't stay too long." John sighed. As he did so, the doctor felt Sherlock's hand move in his. John quickly spun round to the detective. Sherlock groaned as his eyes fluttered open, then closed again.

"Hey, hey. I'm here," John said as he sat forward is his chair and squeezed tighter on Sherlock's hand.

"John?" Sherlock's eyes flew open quickly to look right at him.

"It's ok, I'm here," he said, reaching out to touch Sherlock's flawless face.

"Are you… are you ok?" he asked, struggling to focus on what he was saying.

"I am now you are. In fact, I'm alive because of you," he said, smiling to hide the tears.

"It was… oww… it was nothing," he said and flinched as he moved.

"Sleep. Rest," John told him. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"For what?" Sherlock asked as his eyes closed again.

"You know what," John said, tightening his grip.

"You know why I did it, don't you?" he asked, looking at John again.

"Probably but… why?" he replied. Sherlock's breathing got a little faster but slowed down again after he tried to control it. John glanced at the monitor. He shock is head and looked back at his detective. His eyes got heavier and heavier.

"Because I…" he trailed off as Lestrade entered the room. John sighed and turned to greet him. As he did so, Sherlock caught his eye and mouthed something. John thought, he could be mistaken, but he thought Sherlock mouthed _I love you_. Sherlock them promptly fell asleep. Something to question him on when he woke up.

**So what did you think? Please tell me! Thanks for reading. TWBB xx **


	10. Chapter 10

**Warning… slash. Not explicit by any means. Just thought I better warn you! Please proceed... this way-**

"_I will burn you. I will the heart out of you."_

"_I have been reliably informed I don't have one."_

"_But we both know that's not true." _

"NO, NO he can't."

"_Take this as a friendly warning, my dear… back off."_

"NO, John…"

"I will burn you…"

"JOHN…"

"Burn the heart out of you…"

"Please no… JOHN."

"Sherlock, Sherlock wake the up!"

Sherlock jumped and his eyes flew open looking right at John.

"Breathe. It's ok. Just breathe. I'm here," John said soothingly.

"Bloody hell… that was…"

"To real for comfort?" John said, laughing slightly.

"Err, yeah. That's one way of putting it," Sherlock said, chuckling.

"Ok now?" John asked.

"Mm, think so. God, it's this place. I hate hospitals. Bad memories, really horrible smell. When can I get out of here?"

"Today, hopefully."

"Thank god."

"How's the shoulder?" John asked, nodding towards the shoulder that Sherlock had to have a three-hour operation on to remove a very stubborn bullet.

"Ok, I think. Stiff, and a bit painful. But generally ok."

"Good. I'll go and talk to them. See if I can use some of this authority I have to get you out of here!" he winked at Sherlock as he walked out the room.

"No, you mean the authority that you wish you have…!" Sherlock replied. He laughed at the look of disgust John gave him. When John had left the room, he silently swore to himself. Missed opportunity, again. Still, he couldn't wait to be back at 221b. Sooner the better.

_**SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW SH JW**_

"Sit."

"And who was on about being polite only a week ago?"

"I didn't have a hole in my shoulder."

"Neither do I. It's stitched. Well, at least I hope it is."

"Oh believe me, it is. I've checked."

"Yeah. I would surprise me if you weren't in that operating theatre hovering over that poor surgeon checking he was doing it right," Sherlock said, laughing at his own joke. He stopped when he saw John looking rather sheepish. "You weren't…"

"Now, do you need anything?" John asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh please tell me you weren't…"

"I… I… yes, alright. Yes I was." Sherlock burst out laughing.

"Oh John, what will I do without you?" he asked, still laughing.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he asked, laughing too.

"Err no. Cup of tea?"

"Yeah, sure," John said as he entered the kitchen.

"By the way, what happened to Moriarty?"

"Scotland yard secure unit."

"I didn't know they had a secure unit," Sherlock said frowning.

"Neither did I. Actually, it's an extra secure unit. Apparently nothing can in, or out," John explained as he put the kettle on.

"This is Moriarty we're talking about. OWWW!" Sherlock reminded him, while causing himself blinding pain as he moved to get comfy. John popped his head round the door.

"That's what I told them. You ok?" he asked, two mugs in hand.

"Yeah, yeah. Knew I should have taken those painkillers with me."

"I have some. Do want them?"

"Yes please." John returned into the room with mugs of tea and a packet of painkillers. He went to sit to the right of Sherlock, where he usually sat then decided better of it and sat on the left of him. Sherlock just smiled.

"But what do we do with him now?" John asked.

"Huh?"

"Moriarty. We let him go, he continues these sick games with us. So what, we leave him there?"

"Not sure we can do that. Human rights and all that. We couldn't get a life sentence on just this," Sherlock said, taking a sip of his tea.

"But it's not just this, is it. It's Carl Powers, Soo Lin Yao, Eddie Van Coon, Brain Lukis, Connie Prince, all the people in that flat. We've got him on murder for all of them. Surely that's enough for a life sentence."

"We can't prove any of them were him. He arranged them, he didn't commit them."

"True. Then what the hell do we do? His games are designed to hurt. He has only just managed it so far. Next time we may not be so lucky."

"I know. Tell you what, tomorrow morning we'll go to the yard and discuss our options with Lestarde. And also see if he had any work for me."

"Oh no, you don't. Off work for a least three weeks. That's what I said. And I'm gonna stick to it. No. No work." John picked up his tea and sat back on the sofa.

"But…"

"No buts…"

"John Watson. You're gonna be the death of me," Sherlock said smiling at sitting back on the sofa too.

"I nearly was…" John trailed off. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Depends…"

"The first time you woke up, you were about to tell me why you took that bullet for me. Then Lestrade came in and you didn't. What…"

"What was the reason?" Sherlock finished his sentence.

"Yeah…" John said unsure if he should be asking this.

"Because I love you…"

_**There we go! I had to write some fluff for some reason so I thought, why not here! I hope you enjoyed reading. PLEASE PLEASE review. Thank you for reading. TWBB xx**_


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm so sorry it's been so long. I have no real, good excuses. Please don't hurt me… Anyway, thanks for waiting for this chapter. Minor slash. NOT explicit, no matter how you look at it.**

John almost chocked on a mouthful of tea.  
"See now, that's-"

"God I knew you were going to react like that. Hence the fact I never said it before," Sherlock said getting up off the sofa and walking over towards the fireplace.

"Before?" John asked. "How long is 'before'?"

"Ah, a few... months..." Sherlock said, waving a dismissive hand in the air. John was speechless. "Say something," Sherlock said looking a little helpless.

"I... I errm..." John sighed and put his head in his hands.

"John... please. I need to know I'm not being stupid here. I need to know that you..."

"Love you back?"

"... yes ..."

"I do."

"Look... I... hang on, what?"

"I said I do, Sherlock."

"You said what?"

"I love you."

"What?"

"For god sake. What do you want? Flash cards?" John got up and walked over to Sherlock. "Sherlock Holmes, I love you. God I must be mad," John whispered, placing a hand on Sherlock's cheek in. Sherlock breathed out, relaxing slightly at John's touch.

John smiled at him, lazily stroking thumb across Sherlock's cheekbone. Sherlock placed a hand over John's and smiled at him, holding his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, his phone beeped, ruining the moment. Sherlock sighed as he took it out of his pocket, not even thinking. Considering the recent events, he should have panicked, but he just didn't think.

John smiled at him.

"I'll go and make more tea then," he said, turning away.

"Ok…" Sherlock watched John go then looked back down at his phone. As he reads the text, he is sure the room goes cold. He glances up at John in the kitchen at the kettle, making the tea and blissfully unaware of the situation they are now in. As Sherlock reads over the text again, he realises he had made his decision from the second he saw the sender.

"John…?" He walks out of the living room, past the other door into the kitchen and into his bedroom.

"Mmm?" He puts the mugs down and follows Sherlock into his bedroom.

"Pack a bag. We're leaving." He doesn't look at John as he started to shove clothes into a bag.

"What?"

"We need to go."

"Why?"

Sherlock threw John his phone. "That's why."

John looked down at the phone. Sherlock could swear to this day he physically saw John go pale. Sherlock stopped at looked up at John. "I'm sorry, but we need to run…"

The text simply read:

Text Message Received- 5th April 11  
From: Unknown  
To: Sherlock Holmes

He may be under lock and key but that's not going to stop me, Sherly. Better get lover boy out of there now…

**Ooo, so, who is this 'Unknown' sender? Sherlock knows, apparently… This is what the plot bunnies tell me anyway. Thanks for reading and waiting. **

**PLEASE review. Thanks. TWBB xx **


	12. Chapter 12

John looked out of the window, the clouds rushing past underneath him, the huge expanse of blue sky ahead. He fell back in his chair, closing his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Nervous flyer?" a voice asked him. He looked around to the woman sat next to him. She smiled at him sympathetically, flicking a piece of hair out of her face. "Don't worry, my husband is too. He's terrible." John faked a smile, ignoring her and took his phone out of his pocket to check it. Nothing.

He sighed, resting his head back against the seat once more. Sherlock could _not _do this to him…

Six hours earlier…

"I'm not going."

"You have to."

"No I don't. I don't _have to_ do anything…"

"John…"

"No, Sherlock. You either come too or I'm not going."

"It's not safe for you, John."

"Then it's not safe for you either, you idiot. That argument is never going to work…"

"You need to go, John."

"For god sake, Sherlock, listen to yourself. No, in fact listen to me. I. Am. Not. Going. Without. You. Got it?"

Sherlock sighed, placing the bag he was holding out to John on the bed along with a plane ticket. He stepped forward, closer to John.

"I'll be with you as soon as possible. But I can't leave while he's still out there. Please, John. You have to trust me…"

John looked up at Sherlock's pleading face. "Who is he?" he asked. Sherlock placed a hand on John's cheek, taking one of John's hands with his own free one, entwining their fingers.

"Trust me…" he whispered.

**~…SH&JW…~**

Trust me. Trust him. Sherlock Holmes, the clever detective in the funny hat who is apparently not a sociopath and is in love with John. And the army doctor had to trust him. Trust him enough to send him to a deserted island somewhere near the… actually he didn't know. So he had to trust Sherlock enough to send him to a deserted island that he didn't know and then to kill another man trying to kill them both and for the detective to survive himself before returning to said island in one piece. Yes, it was the flight he was nervous about…

John Watson sighed, tapping his thumb against the screen of his phone. He checked it again, nearly growling at the device when he found he had no messages.

"Come on, Sherlock…" he whispered to himself. The intercom sounded.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be landing in fifteen minutes. If you could please fastens your seatbelts and could the man in seat B12 please turn off his mobile phone. Thank you."

John frowned. His seat was B12. He rolled his eyes, slipping it back in his pocket but leaving it on. If they thought he was missing a message from Sherlock, they had another thing coming.

Half an hour later, John was walking through the airport with his phone clutched in one hand and the bag Sherlock packed for him in the other. He didn't know what he was doing, where he was going. He felt so lost. John looked around the airport, finding a coffee shop and deciding that was his destination for now.

John sat at a table in the corner of the coffee shop, a cup of tea in front of him and his phone sitting on the table next to him. He took a sip, watching the people around him. He smiled as he imagined what Sherlock would be doing right now: deducing half the room and complaining about the heat. Which, by the way, was _hot_.

John was pulled out of his daydream by the vibrating of his phone on the table. He jumped to grab it, remembering what Sherlock had said to him.

"I'll text you when you land. I can try and text you when you're on the plane but I can't guarantee it. Don't panic if I don't."

The text read: 'Instructions in the bag. I'm coming in three days. If I'm not there by Thursday, I'm not coming. SH'. It was such a cold, distant text. John couldn't help but worry about under what circumstances it was sent. But as his phone went off in his hand again, the worry turned to panic.

'I'm so sorry, John. I love you… SH'

**Ok, so tell me what you think? Please? The next part will be based on an RP I had/am having with Detective-Detective and I suppose the idea of the island came from Breaking Dawn pt1! Quite a short chapter, apologies. More soon, I hope. Thanks for reading. TWBB xx **


	13. Chapter 13

**_Urgent_ author's note at the end of this chapter. Please read!**

John sat on the sofa, his head in his hands as he tried to hold back the inevitable tears. It had been three days. It was ten minutes to midnight on Thursday. He wasn't coming. He was dead...

"Hello John..."

John's eyes flew up to see the figure of Sherlock Holmes standing in the doorway in front of him. To say he was looking a little worse for wear would be an understatement.

"Sherlock...? What the hell happened?" The detective had a huge gash across his right cheek, another across his forehead causing his hair to stick to his skin in a clump of mess and blood. His shirt was ripped, multiple scratches and cuts down his arms. Finally, and worst of all, he had a cut the length of his neck, starting just bellow his ear and finishing just before his collar bone.

John immediately flew into Sherlock's arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. Sherlock winced, breathing in sharply in pain.

"Careful, careful..."

John frowned and pulled him over to the sofa, pushing him down onto it. He knelt in front of him and slowly unbuttoned his shirt to reveal distinct bruising across his chest. The doctor lightly traced his fingertips across the bruising.

"Oh, Sherlock..." he breathed. "What happened?"  
Sherlock leant back against the sofa, closing his eyes. "I came straight here. I didn't have a chance to get myself cleaned up," he explained, his voiced layered with pain.

"Let me get you cleaned up then," John whispered, standing again. Sherlock managed a nod, trying to find the strength to move.

"Come on, shower. Then I'll get you stitched up." John offered an arm to Sherlock. He took it, pulling himself up. John quickly wrapped an arm around him to support him, leading him through the large house to the bathroom. Once inside, John kicked the door shut behind them and turned the shower on before turning back to the bruised detective. He let his eyes wander up and down his body, taking in every cut and bruise.

"I though you were dead..." he whispered, lifting Sherlock's dark curls away from the gash on his forehead to get a better look. Sherlock winced, finding John's other hand and gripping onto it tightly.

"I'm sorry. I tried to get back sooner," he whispered in reply. "I just couldn't get away."

"It's ok. You just scared me, that's all." John looked up at him. "Shower?" Sherlock nodded as John pushed his shirt off his shoulders before undoing his own shirt and discarding it on the floor with Sherlock's. He looked back down at John, frowning slightly.

"Are you...?" he trailed off, unsure how to put it.

"If you don't mind. I don't have to... I just thought..."

"No, no. I'd like you to." Sherlock let his eyes fall onto John's bare chest. He smiled slightly. John noticed, gently pulling Sherlock down into a light kiss. Sherlock returned the kiss, quickly deepening it as he pulled John closer. The army doctor rested his hands on Sherlock's hips, carefully slipping his thumbs under the waistband of his trousers. Sherlock pulled back out of the kiss, biting his own lip.

"I've never... errm..." John placed a finger over his lips, his other hand on his cheek.

"I'm not expecting anything from you, Sherlock. We don't have to yet... I just thought... being close to each other..."

The detective nodded, happier in the knowledge John now knew how little experience of this he had.

"Ok..."

"All you have to do is say stop," John said, his voice low and gentle, a tone Sherlock rarely heard him use. He nodded again, resting his forehead against John's.

"I just need to be close to you," John whispered, sliding his hands down Sherlock's sides. The detective shivered, leaning down to kiss John gently again.

"I understand," he whispered back against his lips. "I need to be close to you too…"

**So, yes, I bailed. I have written more but I chickened out when it came to publishing it. The stuff I have written is no more than kissing but I just can't bring myself to click upload as they are in a shower… together…! So, if you want me to, I will. It's here and all it takes is a click of a button. But I need to know what you think, because I only will publish it if you lot say I should! So please review and tell me what you think! Thanks for reading TWBB xx **


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